You Stole the Sun from My Heart
by DeceptiVette
Summary: G1 - Bluestreak has one of those pesky life-altering weeks. The Twins aren't helping, really, but at least they're something of a distraction. Chapter 4 now up.
1. From Despair to Where

Usual disclaimers apply. Heed the rating, I'm not responsible for scared minds. Input makes for one happy artist-turned-pseudoauthor. I appreciate critiques ever so much.

With that out of the way... Hi, I'm Zoe, and this is my first fanfiction, and it's, well… it's robot slash. Go figure. I blame DarknessDivine and the LJ communities that support transformers even having a fandom in the first place.

To be honest, I almost gave up on this story. In the course of writing it, I've become aware of how cliche this sort of story is as more and more like it sprung up. But it still is evolving as I go, and I'm optimistic that the ending will be unique. I've got another story in the plotting stages coming up behind this probably within a month, if all goes well, and that one's a completely off the wall AU continuation of the G1 series. Yeah. I'm done rambling on now.

* * *

You Stole the Sun from My Heart

Chapter 1  
From Despair to Where

_/I try and walk in a straight line  
An imitation of dignity  
From despair to where  
From despair to where/_  
--

"Well, later Bluestreak. I'm headed out to get in some recharge b'fore my shift." Jazz stretched as he stood before stalking out the door.

The rec room had thinned out consistently over the last half-joor, and now was down to one occupant. If this were a normal night, the common room would still be bustling with mechs having conversations and being sociable; passing rounds of high-grade if there had been a significant victory. This wasn't the case. Ever since sunrise, the entirety of the Autobot forces had been called upon to take part in one of the most grueling battles they had seen yet on Earth against the Decepticons. Megatron's troops had attacked with a ferocity that took them by surprise--the Decepticon leader seemed to have bet all his credits on taking out the Autobots in one decisive battle. In the end, his impatience was eventually his downfall, forcing him to call a retreat due to a critical mistake on his part. Before all was said and done, both sides had taken heavy losses. Bluestreak was one of those few mostly unscathed, whereas the vast majority of the other Autobots had injuries significant enough that Ratchet had his hands full for the next few orns.

The predominant conversations floating about earlier had been mostly about 'who was in what condition' while those present compared battle wounds and gloated over which Decepticons they managed to inflict damage on.

It was much later now, and Bluestreak seemed to be the last one not to have left for his own quarters. Perched in the back corner of the common room with his feet on the bench and his knees up near his shoulders, he watched his hand idly as it swished the glowing liquid in his half-emptied cube. The gunner glanced once more around the now-empty room with a sigh. Oh well. Jazz wasn't much of a conversation partner tonight, anyway. His spirits were about as high as everyone else's, and that made for a particularly quiet 3IC.

Well, it seemed that he wasn't going to be able to recharge tonight, he thought dryly. It wasn't a matter of question. This wasn't the only night where the incessant chatter in his mind refused to give him peace. It was getting pretty noisy.

Tonight's inner-monologue consisted mostly of possible… alternate scenarios to the recent battle. Those scenarios seemed to have an annoying ability to turn into nightmarishly similar visions from long ago. _No one was lost_, he kept reminding himself sullenly.

While others had begun to leave for their quarters partway into the night, he took note that Sideswipe had never shown up out of those who were among the uninjured. He'd been keeping track, surprising as that might have been to anyone else. Really, as much as others pegged him as a talker, few realized that he listened just as much as he talked. And so, coupled with the information that Sunstreaker had been all but scrapped, he had a sneaking suspicion of where the twin just might have been lingering.

His original plan was to hang around the rec room in the event that Sideswipe would show up later to grab some energon. As it stood, that didn't seem to be happening. Sideswipe might have been good company, after all.

On that note, it was about time for some Lamborghini hunting… not that he had any doubt in his processor as to where Sideswipe currently was. At least this would be a good distraction to keep him from mulling over everything, and possibly an opportunity to distract Sides from worrying himself to an early deactivation. Bluestreak made his way for the door, disposing of his stale energon as he went.

After a short trek, he knocked once on the inside of the repair bay's doorframe, poking his head inside. "Ah! Here you are. You know, I never saw you come into the common room this evening."

Sideswipe was seated in an almost too-small chair next to the recharging form of Sunstreaker. He had been slouched over his crossed forearms over the berth, but had jumped when Blue spoke.

"Primus… you startled me." The warrior gathered himself upright in the chair, crossing his arms over his hood. "I hope you need something important." He sounded as weary as he looked, so the comment came out with less of a bite than he intended. Blue was undeterred, he at least knew his intentions were good. Since when was it a crime to see to the mental health of a friend?

The Datsun leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, mirroring Sideswipe's own demeanor. "Actually, what I need is for you to come with me. You know as well as I do that Sunstreaker isn't going to explode into little bits of Lamborghini sparkles if you leave his side to get some energy and a good recharge. You're no good to anyone, especially your brother, if you're half dead from exhaustion tomorrow. Now, come on." He motioned to the door with what he hoped was a friendly smile on his face. "I'll drag you if it comes to that."

Sideswipe blinked his optics blearily, wondering why _now_ of all times Bluestreak had decided to bother him; and at this time of night, no less. "No… no, I'll be fine, you go ahead." The red mech rubbed absently at the side of his face while turning back to look at his yellow twin.

"No, I'm serious. You're coming with me. No buts." With that, Bluestreak strode purposefully over and took his hand. Sideswipe offered no resistance when he was pulled to stand and led back to the rec room.

/--/

Upon entering, Sideswipe seemed to be having second thoughts. Blue noticed right away the tell-tail tightening at the edge of his faceplates, the only thing that betrayed the red twin's worry. "Hey, hey, what did I say earlier, eh? Trust me, from the look of things, Ratchet patched him together good as new, right?" Blue gave him a friendly pat on the back, "I mean, I assume he's only offline because Ratchet would hand his aft to him if he were up and about so soon after getting injured so badly."

"Are you stalking us?" Sideswipe deadpanned.

Bluestreak stopped and stared for a moment before replying, "What, you think I only know things about you guys because I'm getting information in underhanded, sneaky ways? Perceptor came in and gave us a status report on everyone a while ago."

Sideswipe hmpfed and moved past Blue to take a seat, while the latter retrieved a couple cubes of 'ye olde good stuff' before seating himself across from the former. The gunner used a finger to slide one cube in Sides' direction before taking a swig from his own, while the warrior stared at the cube, not making any motion towards it.

Blue couldn't help but raise an optic ridge. "I've drugged it, you know. Soon as you drink it down, it'll only be a breem before I can lunge across the table and take advantage of you unhindered." He leaned over the table and leered for effect.

The Lamborghini merely stared with his mouth half-open, half wondering whether or not Blue had finally gone insane.

"Geeze. Just drink it, Sideswipe. You need it." Bluestreak grinned and took another hearty swig of his high-grade, wincing as it went down, "Ah-this batch has some bite. Must be fresh."

Collecting himself, Sideswipe tentatively took the cube and sipped it. "Yeah… I guess I do," he sullenly answered. "And what about you? Do you really need it?"

"Hah. Everyone needs a little high-grade. The world would be a better place if everyone would subscribe to that notion. Just think, if Prime and Megatron both got overcharged to Cybertron and back and had a heart-to-heart, do you think we'd still be at war? I think not."

"What I think, is that you're already overcharged."

"Only a little. Definitely not to Cybertron and back--which coincidentally is what you're going to be."

"You're so sure of this?"

Blue eyed Sides' already emptied cube, then went to fetch a fresh round for both of them. "Here, drink more."

Sideswipe laughed outright before resolutely going to work on his second cube._ That's more like it_, Bluestreak thought.

/--/

Where the Datsun had stopped himself after his second cube, the Lamborghini had gone on to down two more, and was looking quite content.

Blue lounged in his chair, feet propped up on the table. "How we doin' over there?"

"Marvelous." Sides snorted, "Maybe you're right…" He slurred, "Maybe the world just needs a little high-grade."

"Of course I'm right."

"Shall we go to Prime with this news?"

"Actually, that would be a bad idea, even though I'm sure that by this point I could dare you to do just that, and you'd do it."

"…Probably." That did it. Sideswipe became a quivering mass of giggles right before the Datsun's optics. He figured that that was his cue.

"Alright Chuckles, time for recharge." He got up and stretched, but stopped dead when he realized with dismay that the red twin wasn't laughing anymore, but sobbing brokenly instead. That wasn't the desired effect at all, he realized, doorwings sagging.

"Oh… hey, come on." He put a hand on Sideswipe's back in attempt to comfort him. "This has been stressful for all of us, but it'll look better in the morning. Promise." He moved to help Sides stand, only to end up mostly supporting him.

"Oh Primus… Sunny," He choked. "If I had just… and…" He cut himself off with another sob. "What in the _Pit_ is wrong with me? Bawling my optics out like a sparkling…" Abruptly, he stopped, and tried to compose himself. He trembled still as he clung to Blue to keep upright.

The gunner led them both out into the hallway, leaving the empty cubes where they lay. "It's okay. Really, it is. You have to let it out sometimes or else you'll explode," he commented, reassuringly.

"No… I'm done. I'm good, " Sides mumbled back weakly.

The rest of the way to the twins' shared quarters held an awkward silence.

/--/

"Alright, here we are. Punch in your code, would you?" Sideswipe stood upright and moved towards the door, typing the code twice before getting it right. Blue remained in the hall as Sideswipe strode in, weaving a little.

"You gonna be okay? Need anything?" the Datsun queried with genuine concern for his friend.

The Lamborghini sat on his berth and remained quiet for a moment before replying, but avoiding optic-contact, "Hey… Blue. Listen, if you want, you can stay here. No need to walk all the way back to your quarters if you don't need to."

Bluestreak smiled to himself. "If you don't want to be alone, you can just say so. I understand. Really, I do," he concluded as he walked in. "So, where do I get to recharge? I don't see another berth in here, so shall I assume you two just bunk together? That's always a good space saver."

Sideswipe was taken aback by how forward Blue was being about it all, but was still grateful that he wasn't leaving. "Yeah, we recharge together. There's just… no chance I'll offline if there isn't someone else there," he confided, obviously still very overcharged.

Plopping down on the bed next to the red twin, the gunner gestured with his hands in an excited manner. "It'll be like a sleepover!" He grinned.

The grin was contagious; the warrior couldn't help the lazy smile he returned. "Thanks, Blue."

The Datsun flopped over, scooting over to claim a side and sweeping his doorwings back to hang off the side. His hinges were going to be sore in the morning from not being supported, but that was of little matter at the moment.

Sideswipe lay down and made himself comfortable, facing away from Blue. There wasn't really enough room between the two of them to avoid touching; the Datsun's hood projected further from his body than either Lamborghinis', afterall. Bluestreak took it in stride and exaggeratedly stretched, yawned, and draped an arm across Sides' midsection, snuggling up a little closer to get comfortable. He wondered why the situation didn't seem as awkward as it probably should have been… he was strangely comfortable with the proximity.

/--/

The red twin relaxed into the mock embrace despite himself. It was definitely comforting having someone there, even given the circumstances. He wondered idly why Bluestreak was being so caring towards him. Sure, they'd been friends, but not particularly close ones. More like comrades-in-arms, really. It was good to better know each other and how they played off of each other's strengths and weaknesses in a battle, since most of the time it was Bluestreak giving cover fire for the two of them as they charged in and did what they did.

Suddenly thinking was becoming hard. Sideswipe wasn't known for his ability to hold energon. But even through the haze, his mind drifted to a new, interesting question. Maybe it was the energon putting thoughts into his head, but he wondered seriously if Bluestreak was in fact coming on to him. If so, he seemed to be doing a good job of it with the way his hand was strumming along the inside of his elbow joint. And even regardless if the gunner was oblivious to this action, it still didn't help the fact that he was starting to want more of that touch.

Oh, wow. Primus, that energon really was drugged, wasn't it? Blue was only lying about how long it'd take to take effect. Slogging, manipulative little… his engine began to rumble.

/--/

In his defense, Bluestreak really had only been idly moving his fingers. In fact, he'd just about slipped into recharge by the time he noticed the reverberations coming from the other's engine. His fingers stilled for a moment as his optics shone a little brighter. This wasn't part of the plan, even if he'd just been playing it by audio after getting Sideswipe good and inebriated. Bluestreak wasn't all that over-energized, but even a little bit of high-grade tended to loosen up one's inhibitions. He was here, Sideswipe was here, and it honestly didn't sound like a bad idea.

His fingers started moving again, this time deliberately in questioning circles. The Lamborghini's engine thrummed steadily faster as he felt the silver digits press more determinately into the seams of his inner elbow.

"Blue…" he stiffened, feeling the fingers immediately halt. "You don't have to." Sides cursed inwardly when he realized how his voice betrayed how much he'd _quite like to_.

"You know, I can't say I've never thought about it before," the Datsun began, renewing his probing. He leaned in a bit closer, speaking next to the warrior's audio, "I just never thought you'd be open to the idea." He ended that statement by brushing his hand up across the Lamborghini's hood, starting anew his ministrations across neck cables.

The touch following that almost-not-Bluestreak voice right in his audios was enough to make Sideswipe shiver, engine revving up an octave. The Datsun's own engine had gone from an idle purr to something a little more in the process. The Lamborghini really wasn't sure what he thought. He liked Blue, sure, but this was unexpected.

"I really do care about you. I… I know how painful it is to be alone. But I'll understand if you want me to stop-"

"No," he cycled air through his system, "No… this is fine." Sideswipe tried to sound resolute, but only barely made it.

Bluestreak moved to rest his head in the crook of Sides' neck. "If you change your mind, you can tell me to stop anytime." As his fingers continued to strum sensitive wires, his mouth began alternately nibbling and licking, glossa probing past tense neckstruts to the wiring underneath. That action elicited a rather heady moan as Sideswipe angled his head so that Blue may have better access.

/--/

Yep. He must have been drugged, the red one decided. He was drugged, being seduced (by Bluestreak of all mechs), and completely indifferent to any possible circumstances at the moment. The truth was that he honestly hadn't felt anyone touch him like this in what seemed like ages, though. Perhaps there wasn't really anything behind this, and Bluestreak just happened to be very generous with his comfort. He could be okay with that for now, really. He could be okay with just about anything with what Blue was doing with his tounge.

His train of thought ended about there as Bluestreak happened across a particularly sensitive nerve wire. He gasped, subconsciously leaning into the sweeping touch of the silver mech's glossa, seeking out contact on that single wire again.

Redoubling his efforts, the Datsun sought out to find it once more. He knew he got it when the red mech shuddered under him and released a long groan. He carefully singled out the wire with long and slow strokes, untangling it from neighboring wires, and in the process exposing more of it to his probing reach.

The silver hand worked downward now, being overcrowded by Sideswipe's chin in his attempt to expose as much of the back of his neck as he could. They traced the seams of his headlights before dipping lower to finger the edge of the hood. The Lamborghini's engine turned over just a little faster, sending vibrations through the Datsun's hand--and Primus, he could swear they were going right to his spark. The dull roar that grew under his hood did a good job at betraying his arousal. He honestly didn't expect to get this worked up. Pausing for a moment, he cycled air through his system to try and clear his processors.

Sideswipe made a small noise when the touch ceased. Cycling some air as well, he took advantage of that moment to turn around to face Bluestreak.

"I'm sorry… give me a second, and I promise I'll make this good for you. I just got a little distrac-"

The warrior had leaned forward and thoroughly cut off whatever the gunner was about to say. Sideswipe had an _exceedingly_ pleasant kiss, he decided while still a little dazed at the turn of events. He felt the red mech's glossa ghost across his lip component--tentatively, but obviously, requesting access. He also took that time to decide that he was perhaps thinking too much, resolutely parting his lip's dermaplating just far enough that Sideswipe was encouraged to deepen the kiss.

Phantom sparks shot off across his optic range just before he offlined them, taken aback by how intense the oral stimulation was. Bluestreak had kissed before, but Primus, never like _this_. Sideswipe was positively devouring him. He was becoming lost to the sensation while he gently coaxed his hands back behind the red mech's head, half pulling him closer, but half seeking out more wires to manipulate--anything to return this sensation.

And then black hands started roaming. They slid under the front bumper, traced around the headlights, and smoothed over the matt black hood. The Datsun trembled at each new touch. When he paused to dip into the ports where the silver mech's shoulder cannons normally connected, the gunner moaned long and encouragingly into the warrior's mouth.

The Lamborghini ended the kiss then, and pulled back to find that Bluestreak was nothing short of panting. He was cycling short bursts of air through his systems, raggedly working to cool them down. Sideswipe wasn't fairing much better, though.

"Let me show you just what this feels like." He whispered huskily before closing in on Blue's neck, replicating the gunner's own earlier actions. His mouth now unobstructed, he voiced pleasured noises from the delicate touches of the red mech's mandenta against his tactile nodes hidden there. The Datsun's engine thrummed loudly, the sheer RPM vibrating their chassis pleasantly. Seeking more contact, Sideswipe drug a leg over to halfway straddle Bluestreak from his sideways position. A silver hand found purchase on the upper leg, aiding in arranging it there while trailing firm caresses all the way up to his aft, applying a good bit of force there that sent Sides' codpiece and midsection flush into full-contact. The hand then swept down to the knee, smoothing over the guard plating on the front before dipping enticingly into the gaps behind. Durring all this, the silver mech managed to slip his other hand under the red mech's arm to curl around his back, making incoherent patterns.

Sideswipe was reduced to moaning against his throat, higher processors shutting down one by one. Bluestreak bent to capture his mouth once more in time for the warrior to find the hinges of his door-wings. Primus, he was gone. Avidly he lapped at the inside of the red mech's mouth, coaxing him to just keep doing what he was doing while moving the hand not busied with the knee-joint back to fingering through neck-wires.

There was a roar from the cacophony of engines as they reached a crescendo, all cylinders running past critical and threatening to vibrate their very sparks apart while their HUDs each turned red with countless overheat notices and warnings of imminent processor overload. They pulled apart just enough to cry out their pleasure into each other's shoulders; critical error messages flashed just moments before their systems both were sent into a forced recharge.

_Wait… my name's not Sunstreaker…_ was the last coherent thought Bluestreak could process before offlining soundlessly.


	2. Life Becoming a Landslide

Huh. Wow, I can't believe I got such a positive reaction for chapter one. Thank you everyone for your reviews and favs and alerts! -loves on- I'm glad that my characterization of Blue wasn't rejected outright. He seemed more mature in G1 than how people usually write him.

This chapter was just about finished when I posted the first, so you get a quick update. I hope this didn't turn out as rushed as the first chapter. I'm going to need to work on that. I think that particular problem is because I read slow… but I'll definitely work on adding in more detail. Oh, and yes, I'm a horrible Manic Street Preachers nerd. I'm sorry. I was stuck for titles and it just kind of happened.

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Chapter 2

Life Becoming a Landslide

--  
/_Life becoming a landslide  
A mile empty inside  
Life becoming a landslide  
Desire on its knees_/  
--

Bluestreak came back online with a start early into the next solarcycle. He had to shift himself slightly before he realized that he wasn't alone. Then he had to stare for a moment before his memory core decided to finally boot fully.

_Oh._

Slag... That was right.

Immediately he scooted out from underneath Sideswipe's still form, taking care not to jostle him. _Maybe_ he could make it back to his own quarters without Sideswipe waking up, and _maybe_ he wouldn't remember the previous night's happenings. Then perhaps things could be of the delightfully non-awkward variety later.

He stopped short at the door when a sudden realization hit him. Awkwardness suddenly was low on his list of worries.

Sunstreaker was going to slagging _kill him_. He was going to rip him into tiny little pieces. There wasn't going to be enough Datsun bits leftover to make even half a Bluestreak.

Grimacing at the sudden sinking feeling in his spark, he swiftly exited. He could forget getting any more recharge; he needed the time before his shift to think.

And consider writing up a will, perhaps.

/--/

Safely inside his own quarters, he began to pace. While most other bots would assume 'thinking' to involve sitting and staring off into space while one's processor was the only thing moving, Blue's style of thinking was much more animated. Especially in times like these, when his processor was teetering on the edge of short-circuiting.

He walked from one side of his small living space to the other, following a familiar figure eight pattern on the ground. He started out quiet, mumbling just under audible range to himself.

"How do I get myself into these situations? How do I _slagging_ set myself up for failure so easily? I mean, for starters, how wise is it really to seduce a mech who's not only inebriated, but also a bit distraught? How far did I think that one through? 'Oh hey, look, he seems to want it, this seems like a good idea!'" He waved his arms around as if to emphasize his point.

"Primus, I must not have been in my right mind. Energon coupled with lack of recharge. That must have been it. Frag, I still feel out of it." Frustratedly, he cycled a puff of air through his vents and stopped momentarily to pinch the bridge of his nasal component, knitting his optic ridges together to try to take some of the tension off of the overtaxed circuits just behind them. It wasn't helping much. And thinking about how much his head was beginning to ache only seemed to make it worse.

It hurt a little, too. Oh, it was still his fault, but it was never nice to know that your partner was acting on visions of someone else. "I should have slagging known. Chalk it up to Blue to be naïve and not be able to put two and two together. It'd be stranger if those two weren't interfacing. Anyone who knows anything about the nature of twinned sparks should be able to come to that conclusion without so much as having to process it for more than a klik." Practically stomping now in his frustration, his volume had increased steadily in his diatribe. Blue was thankful for soundproofed quarters, he thought distractedly. Primus forbid his neighbors might think he were insane or something.

_Hah._

"Sunny's probably going to find out about it the moment he comes online… I'm a dead Datsun walking. I bet Ratchet won't even take pity on me and just leave me in pieces on an ill-used medberth in some dusty corner for the rest of eternity, forgotten except in legend. 'Remember that ol' Bluestreak? Yeah, that sucker sure did screw up good. Got what he deserved, I'd say. He was infamously annoying and more or less useless anyhow, no one really noticed right away that he was gone save for the sudden feeling of relief that fell over the entire Ark. Can you believe that aft-headed son of a glitch took advantage of his colleague like that? How suicidal do you have to be to mess with the twin of that one _notably_ vengeful mech, come on!'" He laughed bitterly, stopping to rub the side of his helm.

Ranting and working himself up like that seemed to just make the ache worse. Attempting to distract himself, he turned to his desk and typed a few commands into the terminal there. He might as well find out when and where exactly he was due to be this cycle.

He skimmed through a few screens until he found the correct one, scrutinizing the information.

Hm. The 0700 - 1500 shift, his assignment being Perceptor's aid. In two hours. Then an Ark-wide meeting was being called that would assuredly last until nightfall.

Ark-wide meetings were decidedly not the best places to be when one was about to attempt keeping out of sight of certain members of _the Ark_. His posture slumped.

Fan-fragging-tastic.

/--/

Bluestreak arrived at Perceptor's lab early and was greeted with a pleased smile for it. "Ah, Bluestreak, excellent. My usual attendant has been withheld from active duty by our CMO, and so you are to fill his function for this shift," the scientist explained.

The silver mech shifted his weight tiredly. "I figured something like that was the case. So, what will you have me do for you?" he queried in monotone.

"I am running low on materials necessary to complete my projects. It's time for a supply run, you see," Perceptor answered, smile turning to a neutral expression as he realized Blue's discomfort. "Are you well-recharged for the task?" he added, almost conversationally.

"Not really," The gunner answered flatly. "That doesn't change the fact that this is my assignment today, and I don't plan on skipping out of it just because I'm a little tired. Just give me a list, point me in the right direction, and I'll be on my way." He stuck a thumb out and pointed with it over his shoulder.

"Well, yes, that's correct. And I suppose this shouldn't be too difficult, considering that the items I seek are mostly of a smaller nature and will not require you to tow an extra storage unit with you. The location for pick-up will take you half of your shift to travel to, and likewise the other half back, assuming you follow the directions I give you and obey the posted speed limits." He'd been a little taken aback with how Blue answered, but decided that he'd probably be fine once he got out. From pure observation the scientist learned that the vehicles tended to find long drives to be stress-relief, after all.

Perceptor sent Bluestreak off with a datapad that held both directions and the lengthy list of gadgets and gizmos that he was to retrieve from some storehouse in the city.

/--/

The weather was hot, humid, and sunny without a trace of clouds in the sky when he left the Ark for his trip. It stayed that way up until about 1330, when he was already headed back from his errand. Clouds began to lethargically clump together into larger and more menacing masses as the silver and black Datsun sped down the highway, weaving in and out of traffic and mostly ignoring the human traffic laws. His exit came up short after, and he veered off the highway onto the smaller road headed west and seemingly led to nowhere. While he was still thirty miles from his final destination, the pavement terminated to pure dirt roads.

It seemed to take merely minutes for a massive thunderhead to suddenly build a dark wall in the sky to the west before him, blotting out the sun as tendrils of cloud arched across the sky just as fast as the Datsun was racing into it.

_Oh come_ on. _I'm going to be covered roof to floorboards in mud. The Autobots are going to mistake me for one of those dingy combaticons or something and shoot me._

He attempted to radio the Ark, only to find that the lighting was interfering too much with the signal. He'd have frowned to himself had he been in robot mode. The few choices he had now weren't all that appealing… Either he could find somewhere to wait out the storm, or just press on ahead and hope it wasn't producing hail any time soon. Persuading Ratchet to hammer out dozens of dents wasn't his idea of a nice evening.

As things go, the silver and black Datsun approached the 'dry riverbed' portion of the trail leading to the Ark at about the same time that it started to rain. And again, as things go, the silver and black Datsun was at the 'sheer cliffs on either side' section of the 'dry riverbed' portion of the trail leading to the Ark at the very moment Blue's sensors picked up on a wall of _something_ rushing towards him. Panic filling his senses, he abruptly skidded through a u-turn and floored his accelerator.

This wasn't the normal path back to the Autobot base; he had opted to take a short cut he discovered a while back. It was habit by now; he wasn't really thinking about it when he veered off that way. He regretted it suddenly.

Mere moments later, rushing mud and debris crested in a dramatic wave behind him before swamping the helpless sports car. Blue barely had enough time to process what was happening before his optical sensors went black and auditory was completely overridden by the thunder of the flash flood that swept him away.

The pressure forced water and mud painfully into his interior and circuitry any way it could find entrance. Pain, recharge deprivation, stress, and general negligence of self all suddenly hit him at once, overloading his mental state and forcing him offline abruptly.

/--/

It was some time later before fans began to whirr, signifying that Blue's systems were coming back online. At first, all Blue was aware of was that he ached everywhere. Why exactly, he wasn't sure yet. Sluggishly, everything began to sync in Bluesreak's processors once again, and it all came back in a rush.

_Oh_slaggit…_Can this get any worse?_

Bluestreak cried out in frustration, cursing as he rocked on his chassis to free his tires from the receded mud. He realized then that he was absolutely filled, seats to roof, with mud and plant debris (and was that human trash? Disgusting…). His windshield was broken… that must have been why. What else was wrong? Commlink was down. Altmode optical sensors weren't coming online. Two tires were flat. He imagined that his paint was scratched to the pit and back. If you could even _see_ his paint under the generous coating of muck, anyway.

Rocking turned to thrashing as he worked his way free enough to roll a short distance and transform. Immediately he wished he hadn't. Gasping, the pain from grit scraping his internal gears and wires sent him to his knees and hands. He noticed offhandedly that it was now a cool, cloudless night while the rest of his thoughts were slowly falling into rambling chaos.

Realizing that the supplies he was sent to retrieve were missing entirely--washed away with the mud most likely--was what did it. He broke down, curling into himself and sobbed, wailing electronic whines of _pain_ and _stress_ and _worry_ and _regret_ and… anger.

Anger at himself was working its way forefront in his mind as he cursed himself and his stupid decisions over and over again.

But enough was enough. This wasn't helping his situation. He had to go. He had to just get back to the ark, that's all he needed to focus on. He pulled himself together, and got to his feet.

/--/

Prowl was waiting at the entrance of the Ark when Blue finally arrived. Red Alert had notified him to the approaching gunner when the outer sensors had picked him up. He waited, unmoving, just watching the other mech slowly approach. It was a tad unnerving, honestly. Bluestreak was well within auditory range before Prowl finally spoke.

"Just where have you been?" Prowl asked in a cold manner that ordered an answer. The tactician finally noticed Blue's condition now that he was closer and couldn't help that his expression soften a notch in concern.

"Can I explain later? All I want is to be clean and get a little recharge before I have to report for duty again," Blue answered. He let some of his pain come through in his voice, hoping that it might convince Prowl to leave him alone for now. Cheap tactic, but he was beyond caring anyway. "And before you ask, no, Decepticons have nothing to do with it."

Conceding quietly, Prowl moved aside to make a path for Blue. His concern grew once the gunner stepped into the light, noticing now just how beat up he was. Not just that, but his door wings were sagging as if he didn't have the energy to keep them at their normal position. And was he limping? "Bluestreak, can I escort you to the repair bay?"

Blue almost snorted to himself. Was that an 'Are you okay?' in Prowl-ese? "My repair systems can take care of it, it's nothing. I really just want to wash. I think there's more mud _in_ me than on me." He walked forward, a little faster now that his destination was only a few hallways away.

Prowl frowned to himself before following the gunner in and trailing behind him as he made his way to the washracks. If nothing else, just to make sure Blue wasn't going to collapse on the way there or something. He really did look like slag. "How are your energy levels?"

Bluestreak stopped at the doorway, hand on the frame to look back at Prowl. He dimmed his optics and brought up an internal scan of his energon system. "Hm… 6.45" He hadn't noticed it dip that low. That wasn't good.

The tactician didn't react save for his optics widening fractionally. "Get yourself cleaned up. I'll bring you a couple cubes and leave them at the door for you once you're finished." He almost added a note to keep a watch on his energy levels so that he wouldn't pass out in the stall, but he refrained. That would have been an insult to Blue's intelligence with something so common sense.

Smiling tiredly, Blue mumbled a thank you before turning to the stalls behind him.

"Oh, and Blue? I expect you to use your day off tomorrow to give Ratchet a visit so he can repair you fully. Then I expect you to see me in my office for a full report." Prowl smiled this time, almost mischievously, then left without another word.

Bluestreak stopped and stared at the stalls dumbly. He had duty tomorrow, didn't he? He had checked his schedule for the whole week before he visited Perceptor that morning, he was sure of it. Tomorrow wasn't a day off. Was it? Wait.

_Wait._

Did Prowl just _grant_ him the day off? Suddenly he wondered just how pathetic he really looked. Regardless, he was relieved. Very relieved. Prowl even left the times vague for when he was to give the report. Was that on purpose? He was expected to sleep in and take his time? That was kind of a novel idea, but a rather nice one. Maybe after all this emotional and physical hoo-haw he'd finally be able to recharge soundly. Maybe. Chances were higher, at least.

Bluestreak stepped into a stall, taking some brushes and cleaning tools with him to help get out the mud and dirt he felt packed into his frame. Once in, he closed the shoulder-high partition behind him. The automated nozzle adjusted to his height and turned on, sending heated water and solvent cascading over his chassis.

By_Primus_ it felt nice.

He could do little more than just stand there, taking in the warmth for a moment while his optics offlined so he could better focus on the sensation. Cycling a sigh, he deftly set to work removing panels of his overplating to better get to the grime underneath. He cleaned each piece separately, and then set them aside in a pile before worrying about himself.

Focused intently on swiveling around a thin 'tree' brush in his elbow joint, he never noticed anyone enter.

"Heya." A voice leered from just behind him.

Bluestreak jumped, nearly startled out of his underplating.

He recognized that voice.

_Oh Primus not now… _any time_, but not now._

His optics went wide as he peered over the door at the yellow mech leaning so casually there with his chin on his entwined fingers. The expression was unreadable. Blue was sure that it was the one that heralded Certain Doom.

Bluestreak cleared the static from his vocalizer. "Listen… Sunstreaker, if you could find it in your spark to forgive me then I would be eternally grateful and I swear I'll never bother you two ever again." Blue's tirade became more frantic as Sunstreaker calmly unlatched the door and walked into the stall while the gunner just prattled on. "If not could you at least please grant me just a little time to finish getting this slag out of my struts because I'd really rather die with at least some shred of dignity and I'd count not being filthy one of those things that signifies dignity and really you wouldn't want to just end up dirtying yourself right? No sense in getting it all over yourself, this stuff is harder than it looks to get off if you let it dry into your wiring--"

"What the slag are you talking about, Bluestreak?" Sunstreaker leaned over, now clearly in Bluestreak's personal bubble.

"I… that is…" Bluestreak stared. _Oh slag oh slag oh SLAG. _"It's… it's n-nothing. I'm just… you startled me?"

Wide optics were met with Sunstreaker's Very Not Convinced expression. "Oh really?" He leaned over a little, bringing his face closer to Blue's as if that might answer his question.

Feeling uncomfortable about the proximity was an understatement. "What are you doing here?" he asked, backing up until his doorwing-less back hit the rear wall.

"I saw Prowl heading here with some energon cubes and got curious. I followed, saw him put them down outside the door, then walked in to see you here." He picked up a brush and experimentally ran a finger down the stiff bristles.

"No, no, I mean, what are you doing _in_ here? Can't we continue this conversation after I'm done?" Blue's optics were pleading. Sunstreaker stroking that brush was making him extremely nervous. Idly, Blue wondered if the yellow mech was contemplating a way to kill him with it somehow. He'd be impressed if he could manage it, sure, but he'd rather not be on the receiving end.

"You looked like you needed some help. Besides, I plan on finding out whatever the slag it was you were babbling about, and I don't plan on leaving until I do." Sunny brandished the brush for emphasis. "Now turn around."

Bluestreak tensed. This wasn't going well. This wasn't going well _at all_. He hadn't predicted this. How could Sunny not know? Somehow he just managed to screw up _again._ Blue tried to rationalize that he wasn't dead yet, and there was still hope that things would be okay in the morning. Unfortunately, he was too tired to think of any escape plan at the moment, if there even was one.

And, honestly, he did need help with his back. Wait, did he just think that? Was that even a good idea?

_Frag. Might as well let him while he's still oblivious. I'm not just over-rationalizing because I'm tired, right? I'm just playing along…_

Turning, he jumped a little when Sunstreaker first made contact with the brush. The yellow mech scrubbed at the patches of caked on dirt here and there until he got the majority of the big pieces off. He then switched out for a smaller brush to get into the seam detail.

Unexpectedly the small brush swept over the open wires showing under the doorwing pivots. Bluestreak hissed air into his vents, stumbling forward at the sudden sensation. That wasn't supposed to happen.

"On second thought, I'll be fine on my own. I think there's a brush with a longer handle if there's still any dirt lingering after I spray down my back real thoroughly. I mean, it's late, and you ought to be recharging--"

"No, really. I'm not leaving until you tell me what you were talking about. So, either you're going to tell me, or I'm going to be sticking around for a while. And don't think I don't know _exactly_ what I'm doing." Sunstreaker held the brush at his throat mock-threateningly. Blue's intake hitched. To Sunny's credit, he was attempting to allude innocently to his artistic nature and skill with a brush.

_W-was that an innuendo? He was just talking about cleaning, wasn't he? He had to be talking about his mastery of the art of sparkle, right?_ Blue's logic chips threatened to short to even consider that Sunstreaker was threatening to overload him right here in the washracks if he didn't talk or something. That was beyond comprehension.

Primus, he was tired.

In Bluestreak's silence, the Master of Sparkle descended upon his hapless prey. He forcefully spun Blue around and held him to the wall with a hand on the back of his neck. Curved pick in hand, he determinately went to work on the smallest crevasses with the schooled concentration of an artist.

Bluestreak's processor was racing. None of this made any sense. Somewhere he recognized that it was ironic seeing as how he'd fantasized a situation like this before. It definitely involved less Sunstreaker, less sharp-things-near-his-internals, and more of a particular white mech who he could never have in the first place. It was nice to dream, though. Even if that dream was distracting him from trying to think of a way out of this situation.

His thoughts were brought to a stammering halt when a new voice drifted in.

"Heeeey Sunny. What the frag are you doing in here at this joor--oh, hey Blue." Sideswipe smiled in greeting, apparently not finding anything wrong with the situation. "Am I interrupting?"

The gunner just stared over his shoulder at the red mech leaning against the door frame. At his angle he could probably only see his face and the yellow hand on the back of his neck. Of course, it was pretty easy to take a scene like that the wrong way.

Sunstreaker's frilled head popped up above the door, holding his other hand with the pick in view. "I'm just helping him get some dirt out of his hinges."

"Is that what they're calling it nowadays?" Sideswipe guffawed and wandered over. "What in the pit are you doing to poor Blue?" Stopping at the door, he took up a stance that mimicked how the gunner had first seen Sunstreaker there. He frowned suddenly when he got a better look at Blue. "And just what in the pit happened to you? Your paint's all scraped up. And you weren't at the meeting," he pointed out. "Are you okay?"

"I'm… I'm tired. If you two don't mind, I think I'm going to just go back to my quarters. I think we got all the dirt." Bluestreak moved to exit, only to find that Sunstreaker's hand hadn't yielded. "Um…"

"Leaving so soon? Hang on; I think you need a once-over in case Sunny missed a spot. Primus knows how he'll get caught up in the details and miss the bigger picture."

Sunstreaker frowned, offended. Sideswipe entered the small space and suddenly Bluestreak was feeling claustrophobic. He didn't want to deal with this right now. He was pretty well convinced he didn't.

The red twin guided the gunner to turn around to face him. He gently took his chin in his hand and pivoted Blue's face to better inspect it. He reached behind him to grab a smaller, soft brush began to work away traces of dirt there.

Despite everything, it was actually a pretty pleasant feeing. He felt himself relax a little, even with Sunstreaker still poised against the opposite wall. He couldn't help but wonder if they often cleaned each other with how immaculate they always seemed to be. He shuddered slightly at the next thought.

Sideswipe quirked an optic ridge at Blue while he worked, obviously noticing the tremor with their close proximity. Satisfied with his work on the white and silver face, he moved the brush lower to work around Blue's neckstruts. _Wait… wait, was he doing this on purpose?_

Bluestreak's optics dimmed of their own accord as the sensation brought back vivid memories of the night before; intensified by the swirling motions of that pit-dammed brush. _That fragger. He was doing this on purpose._

"You see, unlike my idiot brother, I know exactly what I'm doing." There was a peculiar gleam to his optics. He was absolutely certain that this time, it _was_ innuendo.

Bluestreak felt cornered… like some kind of animal--unable to run anywhere, unable to avoid the current situation. It pissed him off, honestly. His only options left were to sit back and let things pass, or fight. Irritably, he snorted. He was tired, under-energized, in a moderate amount of pain, stressed, and now this. It was downright frustrating.

The red mech pulled back fractionally, questioning look on his faceplates. "Hm?"

Sideswipe was met with a glare and another snort.

"What?" Sideswipe was genuinely confused by Bluestreak's reaction. Only, he didn't have much time to wonder about it, as he was unexpectedly shoved against the closest wall and captured in a crushing kiss. The closest wall happened to be the one Sunstreaker previously was leaning on, incidentally enough. The yellow twin made an indignant sound as his brother was shoved against him.

Blue was convinced he had lost it. Oh, the _audacity_ of it all. He was at wits end; far too tired to _begin_ to care about the consequences of what he was doing.

It_would_ be nice if his life started making some sense again.

An approving noise drifted from behind Sideswipe just as golden hands brushed down the silver mech's sides.

Yeah. That _would_ be nice.

"What is _wrong_ with you two? Why the frag are you doing this?" Bluestreak hissed as be pulled his head back, still pinning the twins under his weight. He was met with stares of various confused shades. "Oh don't give me those looks, you know what I'm talking about. I go about my entire day expecting to have the slag beaten out of me, Sunstreaker, and here you are, acting like you approve of this. Is this some kind of crazy reverse-psychology punishment meant to torment me further? I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry about what I did last night. I got carried away. _More_ than carried away, and I took advantage where I should have had better judgment. It was wrong, but this? This is cruel. Can't you just beat me into stasis-lock like normal disgruntled mechs and leave it at that?"

The confused stares deepened somewhat. "Sides, what he frag is he going on about?"

"Geeze, Blue… if you wanted us to stop you should have said so before. We would have left, no questions asked." Sideswipe answered, concern now coloring his features.

"You were planning on getting me close to overload and then leaving me…"

"What?"

"This is nice and confusing and all, but can you let up a little? I can't feel my arm." Sunstreaker shifted.

Bluestreak took a step back, releasing the brothers. He felt dizzy, and it was getting worse by the astrosecond. Nothing was making sense anymore, and, worryingly, it was getting harder and harder to think. He was missing something important, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Listen, I'm sorry if I came on a little strong or something. But in all honesty, I figured this was a mutual attraction sort of deal, considering yesterday--"

"You know, I'm still pretty in the dark as to what 'considering yesterday' means, Sides."

"Oh! Uh, well, details are fuzzy, because of the energon and all…."

"You interfaced with him?"

"Buh.. h-he started it!"

"The way he's acting, one would think you forced yourself on him."

"You know fragging well I'd never do that to another mech, Sunny."

As the twins argued, Bluestreak found that he had sunk to the floor, back propped up against the other wall of the stall. He stared ahead, trying to string together what they were saying into a language he could understand, but for some reason he was failing. Really, he should probably be concerned about that. Panic would even be a reasonable reaction, but he couldn't bring himself to it. "I'm… I'm tired guys…"

Sunstreaker blinked his optics, surprised when he finally noticed the mech on the floor. "Bluestreak?"

The red mech turned his head, startled at what he saw. "Oh, hey, are you okay?" Sideswipe knelt down, putting a hand on the gunner's shoulder. "What's wrong? Hey, com'on, lets go pester Ratchet, you're looking a little gray around the vents."

Bluestreak was silent a moment before answering. "That's… probably not necessary. I'm just…" _/Warning: Energy Levels at 1.0 -- Initiating Reserve Mode._

Oh. Well that at least made more sense.

Bluestreak slumped forward, optics black.

* * *

Oho. Blue has a mystery crush. Hopefully I can pull this off without it turning into a robot soap opera.

With_ guns._


	3. AlwaysNever

Okay, here's chapter 3, finally. Sorry for posting it and taking it down again, there were some major revisions near the end that were being considered, but ultimately abandoned. So, without further ado, here's chapter the current version of chapter 3. There _were_ some edits made here, so it being down for a couple days wasn't for naught. :'D

I also want to take a moment to say HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS. I wasn't expecting such a positive response to this. Thank you all for your subscriptions, favorites, and above all, your reviews. I'm 100 percent open to critique and suggestions, so don't hesitate, even if you're afraid of offending me. Trust me, you won't.

One last thing: I'm going to plug our Transformers original character movie-verse RP board here. Come check it out, especially if you've got some OCs floating around that need a home. It's called Robot Fried Rice, and can be found at: eandarae DOT net SLASH rfr

* * *

Chapter 3  
Always/Never

/_Always - Never facing you  
Always - Never being true  
Always - Always gonna be this way_/  
--

There was a faint hum somewhere to his left. It was annoying and incessant, and groggily he realized that he was being pulled out of recharge by its unfamiliar tone. Begrudgingly, Bluestreak powered his optics on dimly, shifting to realize he was flat on his back. With a sigh, he sat up, taking in his surroundings while experimentally flexing his doorwings to try to work some feeling back into them.

This wasn't his quarters. In fact, it looked strikingly similar to the interior of the med bay. He slumped back, bringing a hand to rub at his temple. _Why am I here this time? What the slag happened between…_

What the slag happened, indeed? His processors weren't cooperating and his memory circuits felt like they were full of mud.

_Mud?_

It kind of felt like that should be ironic somehow.

He was immediately pulled from his thoughts when the resident CMO noticed Blue's stirring and promptly planted himself in front of his patient's berth. Looking characteristically peeved, to boot.

"Bluestreak, please explain to me why you allowed yourself to practically go into stasis lock from lack of energy," the medic asked expectantly, attention focused on a data pad that presumably held his medical data.

_Oh. Something like that happened, didn't it? And all because of…_

It came back in a rush. Bluestreak really wished he'd stop on-lining to awkward memories, this was getting kind of ridiculous.

"I… I was caught in that storm yesterday. I assume that was yesterday. Is today the tenth? It was the ninth, and there was a flash flood--"

"That explains the superficial damage to your armor, but that really has nothing to do with your energy consumption habits." Ratchet gave Blue a pointed look this time, lip components in a thin line.

"I was getting to that." Bluestreak gave a tired glare, willing Ratchet to just be patient so that he could explain himself. Sooner he was out of here the better; he didn't really didn't feel like dealing with the CMO longer than necessary. "I went to the washracks as soon as I arrived back at the Ark, and blacked out before I could get myself some energy."

"You didn't think to grab a cube before hand? Wouldn't that have been more important than primping?" Ratchet waved the pad to punctuate his question, his ire clear on his face. He really was not very patient to the woes of the vain little sports cars anymore. It was making them downright reckless, what they'd sacrifice in order to look good.

Bluestreak sat up, frustration evident with the angle of his doorwings. "I wasn't primping. And Prowl said he was going to get me a couple of cubes and leave them for me." _But I seemed to have gotten distracted somewhere along the line. _"And speaking of Prowl, I have to go and give him a report on what happened." The gunner moved from the berth and stood, immediately feeling disoriented for a moment before his gyroscopes could compensate.

The white mech was immediately at his side. "_Hey_, slagging take it slow, your processors will need a few breem to catch up to full running capacity."

"Pfeh. Right, right. I'm alright now. You're going to let me leave, right? I mean, it was just energy deprivation."

"Just nothing." Once the medic was sure Blue wasn't going to topple over, he moved to give him some room. "Energy deprivation can lead to some nasty complications if it happens too often, or goes too long untreated. Same goes for recharge deprivation." He gave his patient a knowing look, but left it at that.

"Right, doc, I know all about it. I won't let it happen again." He was already at the door. "But… thanks. I'll see you around." Ratchet acknowledged his thanks with a nod, already preoccupied with another datapad. Bluestreak stepped through the automatic door, heading straight to Prowl's office.

/--/

Prowl looked up from the computer screen he had been scrutinizing as Blue let himself in. The tactician's stoic façade dropped as he leaned back and greeted the younger mech with a warm smile. "You seem to be doing better. Did you check in with Ratchet after all?"

Bluestreak let out a world-weary sigh and let himself sink into a thick armchair across from Prowl's desk. "More or less. Not that I had much choice in the matter." He frowned, not really sure how much he wanted to tell Prowl just yet. Despite all appearances, Prowl was almost like an older brother to him, but he was pretty sure he needed to figure out his current problems a little further before attempting to burden any one else with them. Slag, he didn't even know where to begin thinking about it all.

"Hm? Did the twins nag you into it? You looked pretty bad off."

The silver mech's eyes widened in shock. "Th-the twins? Wait, how did you-?"

"I noticed Sunstreaker taking an obvious interest in watching me leave, even if he was trying to be sneaky about it. I just assumed the other wasn't far behind, but I guess you confirmed my assumption." The black and white's grin was smug at that. "But I'm straying off point. If you could just give me that report on what happened yesterday between you leaving from Perceptor's to the point where I met you when you came back, I'll let you get out of here."

To say Blue was thankful that Prowl wasn't going to pry for unnecessary information would be quite the understatement. He relaxed again and retold events as best he could with a few reminders along the way if he started wandering off topic. _Human drivers really _do_ have slow reaction times though!_

/--/

All together, it didn't take as long as it could have, and Bluestreak had already exited and was making his way to the rec room at a leisurely pace before mid-afternoon. It must have been the normal shift-change time, because there were quite a few bots milling about and socializing in the halls.

Upon reaching the common room, Blue hesitated momentarily. What had brought him there in the first place? His energy reserves were topped off, and it probably wasn't such a good idea to get completely sloshed this early after being in the medbay. Or just plain this early, it wasn't even nightfall yet. There wasn't really anyone he wanted to find or talk to. Nope, not really. Not even the matching yellow and red mechs who had taken a notice in his arrival, and even seemed to be waving him over.

Bluestreak stared, frozen. He quirked an odd smile, trying desperately to save face as he willed himself to decide if he was going to turn around and leave or soldier on to what will most likely be a disastrous confrontation. He tried to reason with himself that leaving wouldn't solve anything -- and that he'd have to confront them again sooner or later.

Oh, and also they would very likely follow after him.

Resolutely, he walked up to where the twins were currently seated in front of a large wide-screen television. He stopped at the back of the couch, pretending to take interest in whatever it was they were watching… some foreign human action movie. With ninjas.

Sideswipe beamed at him when he approached. "Good to see you up and about. You sure gave Sunny and I a scare."

"Don't put words in my mouth, Sides."

"… Not that Sunny will admit it. But, hey, how are you feeling?" The red mech shifted so that he was fully on the left side of the couch now. Sensing his brother's intentions, Sunny moved over as well.

"I'm fine. It's not a big deal, really. But I think I'm actually going to-"

"You. Sit." This time, Sunstreaker cut off whatever excuse Bluestreak was going to use to leave, and motioned to the empty space between them on the couch.

"Ah… eh. Okay." He couldn't really bring himself to argue. Ninjas were pretty cool, and the couch was pretty comfortable, really. He'd just stay a little while.

As soon as he was seated, Sunny went ahead and made himself comfortable by swinging his legs to rest across Blue's lap while Sides sunk into Blue's side, leaning his head on the gunner's shoulder. Blue stiffened fractionally, but otherwise didn't say anything. What the slag were they doing now?

"You know, you should mention something next time if you think you're about to go into stasis lock or something. It'd be easier on all of us involved," Blue felt, as well as heard, Sideswipe's words rumble against his chassis. He involuntarily relaxed. It was somewhat soothing.

"Oh, and I've really got no one but myself to blame for the fact that I was a bit distracted at the time, hmm?" The gunner adopted an annoyed tone, even though he didn't feel particularly such.

He kept his attention on the screen before him after that. Only after it was too late did Blue notice that Sideswipe's face was a lot closer to his than it originally was. Startled, he attempted to pull back, only to be foiled by the couch's headrest. The red mech simply leaned forward and gave him a full kiss.

Optics widening, he planted his hands on the warrior's shoulders and pushed him away. "_What are you doing?_ We're in the slagging rec room!" He whispered harshly, horrified of the aspect of someone taking notice.

"I don't care." Sideswipe frowned.

"_I _do." Bluestreak clenched his teeth, attempting to glare at his assailant. If Sunny had any opinion in the matter, he didn't show it. He just continued to watch the movie casually.

The red twin slumped back against Blue's side and sighed defeatedly, a few minutes passing like that in silence. He fidgeted, wanting to turn up the volume on the movie, but didn't see a remote anywhere. The quiet was just _too_ quiet, and really was starting to grate on his mind.

Sunstreaker stretched, choosing to chime in finally. "Bluestreak, if you don't want to get involved with us, you should say something about it." His expression was unreadable.

"Is there someone else?" Sideswipe questioned.

"Y-_No._ Not really... It doesn't matter. That's not… I mean. I don't know what I mean. I think… I don't know what I think. I think that you two are nice, but-"

"Really? Who is it? Are you already involved?" Sideswipe asked wonderingly. He seemed more curious than hurt by the revelation.

"I-it's no one. Like I said, it doesn't matter." He wondered if he could manage an escape some time soon. It really was a silly crush, and _maybe_ he had unintentionally used Sideswipe as a distraction (but he wasn't quite in the right mind at the time). It didn't mean he had to know about it. The distraction seemed pretty mutual at the time, anyhow.

"Then what's stopping you? Is it just because we're _here_, or would you rather not continue this? If it's the former, we're both free for a while… " Sideswipe began, leaning back on the armrest.

"We could head back to our quarters." Sunstreaker added suggestively.

Bluestreak fidgeted again, completely unsure of what he should be doing in this situation. "And have a pleasant conversation like civilized mechs, I'm sure." Maybe he should just tell them off. But then he might offend them or something, and endanger any chance of keeping a friendship.

The red mech smiled. "Sure, if you want."

"If we're just going to talk, I'd rather not move. I'm comfortable." His brother frowned, crossing his legs across the gunner's lap to prove his point.

"I see that. What if I'm not?" This time it was Blue's turn to frown.

"You're fine." The yellow mech poked him in the side with a free hand.

Bluestreak jumped at the unwelcome prod, but settled back in, realizing that freedom was a long way off until the twins had thoroughly embarrassed the Datsun. He wanted this, didn't he? 'Friends with benefits' they called it, right? There was no shame in that, he just needed to get used to it… Or perhaps not. Maybe it'd do him some good? Maybe this was a bad idea. Relations of this nature were complicated enough with one person, but he seemed to be getting a package deal, whether he liked it or not. And the movie was ending soon, he really needed to make up his mind.

It was possible that they'd be understanding if he told them the truth. That he was pretty slagging inexperienced in these matters, that there _was_ someone, that he was pretty sure that someone had absolutely no feelings for him, and that he was terrified of being rejected, even if it was just a stupid crush. And over what? Why the hell did he feel so strongly about that mech? They'd spent very little time together, only ever talking maybe a handful of times. But those few times had been extraordinarily comforting; had been extraordinarily like talking with someone he'd known all his life. He'd be intrigued by his build first, and fell in love with his mind shortly afterword. It was bizarre. And horrifying. Bizarrely, horrifyingly, nice. He had absolutely no idea what to do about it, either. Try as he might, he couldn't stop thinking about him. Going on almost an Orn now. It was pathetic.

Sideswipe noticed Blue's introspection, and decided to interrupt. "So… is it Jazz?"

"Jazz? Wh-_no_. No, it's not Jazz. Primus, that would be weird."

To be honest, he'd rather have had this conversation with Prowl first. He always had really good advice, and would probably know what to do. That, and he wouldn't go spreading rumors at his first opportunity.

"Oh, so there _is_ someone." Sideswipe grinned, now determined to find out every detail he could. "Is it… Prowl? Mirage?"

"But… No, neither of them. But really, what makes you think that-"

"I could run through the entire roster, if you'd like. Why don't you save me the trouble and just tell us? Maybe I could help you out."

Bluestreak gave a heavy sigh, dreading what he was about to say. Rather, being pestered into admitting. Maybe they'd understand, though. "It's… probably not going to make any sense to you. And he's probably the last mech you'd think of. But, that's just how it is. There's nothing between us… Pit, he probably just considers us colleagues, not even friends. I just… I don't know how to really explain it in a way that you might understand. He's just… so…"

"What, is it Gears?" The yellow mech offered, deadpanning.

"What? No!" The gunner was a bit disturbed by the thought.

"_Gears?"_ Sideswipe just stared at his brother incredulously.

Sunstreaker shrugged. "It was the least likely mech I could think of."

"Alright, you win in that case. Maybe not _the_ most unlikely mech, then, but still."

"Out with it! You've piqued my limitless curiosity, and I demand that curiosity satisfied." Sideswipe started prodding Bluestreak in the side, as if that might expedite his answer. "I have to know!"

"It's… er, well, it's…" A name followed, but it was muttered inaudibly.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker leaned in towards Bluestreak in unison. "What?" They both said, in stereo.

"…Skyfire."

If he weren't so horrified at the moment, Bluestreak might have appreciated the fact that he put an absolutely stupefied expression on both twins' faces. Which looked pretty ridiculous on Sunstreaker.

* * *

What? Who were you expecting it to be? THIS IS THE ONLY OBVIOUS PAIRING, gawd.

Okay, I can explain. I was trying to do something obscure and make it work, is all. I love Blue, I love the Twins, I love BlueTwins, but I also don't like being cliche... BlueTwins is getting to almost as common as ProwlJazz. So, I got to thinking, and eventually came up with this interesting pairing idea. The more I thought on it, the more it started making sense to me. And, well, you'll all see what I mean later on. In the mean time, I'm not going to make any promises as to who he's going to end up with, if anyone. ;3


	4. This is Yesterday

Woops. That definitely took two months, didn't it? Sorry about that. :'D This one was a lot harder to write, but it was still fun in how frustrating it was. I'm dead determined to work more on this, Botcon renewed my love of the fandom 100-fold.

Speaking of, shout-out to all the lovely people I met at Botcon last weekend, even though I didn't get to chat much with you guys. xD BitterEloquence, Mommimus Prime, Wayword Insecticon, WynterRose, and Chibi Joumae are the only ones I can remember off the top of my head, unfortunately. Good times, man, good times. I hope I can pester you guys next year, too. 8D

OH AND I ALMOST FORGOT. -facepalm-

Insanity-24-7 freaking drew me fanart for this story. That is ridiculous and win and you have no idea how exciting it was to stumble across it. Many lols were had, as you'd imagine. Do be sure to visit her DeviantArt gallery of the same name to view it, it's hilarious. NO SERIOUSLY. GO.

* * *

Chapter 4  
This is Yesterday

/_Do not listen to a word I say  
Just listen to what I can keep silent/_/

The twins were about to respond, but Jazz chose that moment to walk by, bemusement written on his features at the sight of their comfortable arrangement. "I though' you two were due for patrol a breem ago? And Blue, aren't you suppose'ta be helping Trailbreaker with inventory?"

"Inventory…?"

The red mech deadpanned. His brother might have, too, but his expression was pretty much neutral to begin with. "Woops. Uh. Come on, Sunny." Sides hopped up from the couch, proceeding to usher his still somewhat dazed brother out the door while Jazz turned his full attention on the lone Datsun.

"I… I think I'm supposed to have the day off. At least, that's what I figured Prowl told me."

"The day off? What's th' occasion for th' special treatment?"

"I, er, it's a long story…" Bluestreak stared at his hands. "I had an incredibly bad day."

"A bad day, and Prowl gives you th' day off? _I _have a bad day and I'm lucky if he even smiles at me." Jazz shifted his weight, frowning. "Enjoy yer day off, I guess." The saboteur left it at that and strode out the room.

For the first time in a while, Bluestreak found himself alone. _I'm never going to take a normal solar cycle for granted ever again, I promise. _He slumped forward, head in his hands.

_What now? And what does Jazz mean? Why would I be getting special treatment? Wait… does Jazz think that… does Prowl…? _Groaning, he drug himself to his feet and made his way out, needing to find something to distract himself from thinking too hard. Everything seemed to get more complicated when he did.

Bluestreak set about wandering the hallways of the Ark, taking random turns here and there without a real destination in mind. He didn't want to sit in his quarters and stare at the wall. Or sit in the rec room and stare at the wall. Or socialize, actually, because that would require acting a lot more amiable than he felt. He really just wanted someone he could talk to--someone who would listen to his problems with caring and patience, and offer some sage advice that would suddenly make everything clear. But there was only one person he knew of like that.

The silver mech stopped, realizing he was staring at the door to Perceptor's lab.

He stood rooted to the spot, nervously shifting his weight as he debated turning back. Of course, the answer was obvious; he should about-face and continue on his wanderings. Obviously.

But why couldn't he convince himself to move? It was simple, just lift one foot and-

The door cycled open, Perceptor barely stopping himself from crashing into the gunner on his way out.

"Oh, Bluestreak! I'm sorry, I didn't notice you right away and nearly collided with you." The microscope side-stepped Blustreak with a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Do feel free to come in. Skyfire's inside, if you wanted to talk to him while I run an errand."

Blue's optics widened at Perceptor's, well, perceptiveness. It wasn't too strange, but Bluestreak felt that Perceptor sensed something between them this time. That might have been the paranoia talking, but still. It wasn't uncommon for the gunner to occasionally drop by for conversation or company when Skyfire was assisting Perceptor and he had nothing else to do. Now, though, it seemed like a potentially awkward situation.

Quietly thanking the red and teal mech, he padded through the door and glanced where he knew Skyfire would be. The shuttle had one hand braced over the keyboard in front of him, the other holding a datapad that he was skimming over; Blue stared, not completely realizing that he was doing so. The logical part of his processors that was telling him to leave--hastily--was being ignored in favor of taking in how the white mech balanced his weight to the right, left hip sinking in contrapposto, shoulders rolled back in such a focused, but relaxed stance.

"Oh, Bluestreak. I didn't hear you come in." Skyfire noticed the younger mech's presence and waved him over, smiling pleasantly. "How's it going?"

_Hi Skyfire. Funny story, really. _"Hey. It's going… well."_ First, I find out about you being badly injured, and end up trying to distract myself by interfacing with Sideswipe._ "Just.. uh... dropping by." _And now that the Twins are bent on trying to wrangle me to their recharge pad, I catch wind that Prowl might be interested, too, which is kind of creepy. _"I have the day off, so I figured I'd see what you were up to." _But essentially, I feel completely and utterly guilty even though there's absolutely nothing between us. _"If you're busy, though, I can leave." _And it doesn't make sense for there_ to_ be. I just can't seem to convince myself that I don't like you like… that. _His doorwings slumped.

Skyfire shook his head. "Nah, I'm just trying to hunt down some information for Perceptor. It takes a lot longer to find what you're looking for on the humans' information network than back home… it's a good start, but it's still very primitive."

Bluestreak settled himself in a chair by the computer console. Looking up, he saw Skyfire studying him, as if he were about to ask a question. The gunner decided that _now_ would be a great time to cut off Skyfire's train of thought, if he were indeed taking note of Blue's mood like he thought he was. "Aha, you could help them out with that, I'm sure. I mean, you're programmed for science. I'm programmed for statistics, not that that has to do with anything other than to illustrate the point that you'd be better off for the job, because isn't coding part of science anyhow?" It was possible he was thinking too much. It was also possible that he only thought he was thinking too much.

Regardless, Skyfire was aware that the Datsun was in some sort of distress. Blue was naturally the sort to 'wear his heart on his sleeve' (humans had such fascinating idioms in their language), afterall. "Well, that is a type of science, sure, but my field is more along the lines of xenology."

Blue considered this. "Oh. Well, what about Wheeljack? Or Perceptor?"

"Actually, neither of them have any more experience with computer science than I do."

"I guess the humans are out of luck, then, eh?"

"It seems so. But that's alright, it's interesting to watch their society evolve on its own."

Awkward conversation preceded awkward silence. When it became apparent that Bluestreak didn't have a reply, Skyfire went back to slogging through the internet with half-interest. A silent Bluestreak was only a good sign about half of the time. He wanted to ask what was on Blue's mind, but he figured he'd find out whenever the younger mech was ready to talk. Right now, he seemed content to fidget, staring at nothing particular and tapping his foot. In this case, it was obviously not a good sign.

The gunner noticed Skyfire's attention on him, winglets raising high in his unease. "Ah… er, I-I haven't seen you in a while. Anything interesting happen to you?"

The air guardian tilted his head in thought, "Well, no, aside from getting a few holes blasted in me and spending a lot of time in stasis for repairs." Why did Blue look concerned suddenly? "Everything seems to be back to normal now, though." He punctuated the statement with a smile, motioning to his intact chassis. "Anything interesting happen to you?"

He wanted to laugh. The sheer absurdity of the question had the gunner's logic centers reeling. He was rather glad it wasn't as sophisticated as Prowl's, though, because it would certainly be fritzing by now. "Oh, nothing much. I'm sure Perceptor has told you about the random mudslide I was caught in."

"Mudslide? I'm afraid he failed to say anything about it."

"Oh, really?" A nervous laugh. "It's about how you'd expect it to be. Massive wall of debris and dirt and water and Primus-knows-what engulfing you in its crushing force that you're completely powerless against." Why did Skyfire look concerned suddenly? "But I'm fine! I don't remember most of it, anyhow. I offlined at some point. The walk back to the Ark wasn't pleasant, of course, but I'm alright now."

Skyfire frowned, not liking how lightly the younger mech was talking about something that could have been potentially deadly. And just what was he doing to get himself caught in such a situation? Hopefully nothing reckless. "Well, at least you're alright. I'd be devastated to hear that you were lost to a freak accident like that."

The young mech stiffened, looking to the shuttle like he'd just said something profound. "Really?" He still seemed uneasy, but there was a tone of hope to his voice.

"Well, yeah. I mean, the Ark wouldn't be the same without you, Blue. All of us would be affected if something was to happen to you, and you know it." Skyfire's concern was growing now. Was Bluestreak depressed? Was his self-esteem so low that he sought others to affirm that he'd be missed if he were gone? Psychology wasn't one of his strong points, but the young mech's actions were worrisome if he was reading them right.

He deflated a bit at Skyfire's reply, putting his chin in his hands. "Yeah. That really goes for everyone, doesn't it? We've been pretty fortunate so far. Since we awoke on this planet, we haven't had to deal with any losses, save for when we first thought we'd lost you to the ice again. But, thankfully, you're okay."

Skyfire abandoned his computer terminal to pull up a shuttle-sized chair. It seemed he had no idea what was bothering Bluestreak afterall--if it had been depression, affirmation of being missed should have cheered him at least a little. Maybe it was something of a different nature. "It's true, we have been pretty fortunate, haven't we? Any way you look at it, though, we're still in the middle of a war, and that status could change any moment. I, myself, haven't had to deal with this war in the same way you have. But even despite my millions of years of stasis under the ice, I still suffered my own loss. We've all been affected by this war, some more than others."

Bluestreak was silent for a while after that. His processors were bogged down with questions, none of which were helping the fact that he could feel an ache forming behind his optics and a matching one tugging at his very spark. How selfish of him to assume that he was the only one with problems. How childish to place so much importance on relationships when there was a war being fought for their survival and the revival of their planet. But was it so selfish and childish to want to be happy?

The white mech strained to hear Blue's mutterings, catching only the tail end of it, and answering with another question "Isn't being happy the very thing the Autobots fight for?"

Blue froze, realizing he'd spoken aloud.

"I'm not so blind as to fail to see that there's something eating at you. We're friends aren't we? Whatever it is, you can talk to me."

The Datsun felt the urge to run. This was all so stupid and trite and he didn't need to be here wasting Skyfire's time just because he was lonely. But he said they were friends…? Was that true? "I don't really know. I mean, are we friends? I think the only time we ever hang out is when I come in here to pester you because I'm bored or something trivial like that."

"I enjoy the company. I get pretty bored, too, you know. And the conversations we have are normally pretty substantial, you're one of the more intelligent bots around here, and I respect that. I don't see any reason why we wouldn't be friends." He chuckled softly.

An unconvinced snort. "You're calling me 'intelligent' when you work directly with Perceptor? You've got to be kidding me."

Skyfire leaned back, wondering why Bluestreak seemed to be on a self-depreciating stint as of late. "Perceptor is intelligent in his own ways, but he's very easily distracted. It's often frustrating when he goes off on a tangent, only to forget what his original point was. Don't get me wrong, he's a genius, just hard to talk with. You, on the other hand, might have a round-about way of conversation, but at least you always have your wits about you to come back to the point. I'm not just saying this, I mean it. I would value your friendship, if you gave it to me."

The silver mech finally looked optic to optic with the Autobot Air Guardian at that, face a mix of subtle emotions that altogether appeared blank. "You said… you said that you had suffered your own loss, despite being in stasis before the war ever begun."

It was a statement that held a question. The younger mech seemed to seek some sort of trust in him, the question holding a silent understanding of _tell me your truth, and I'll tell you mine_. Skyfire contemplated this as he reclined, deciding finally that if that was what he needed to do, then so be it. His past was not secret, afterall. No one knew simply because no one had cared to ask.

"Bluestreak, do you know why I was on Earth, before I became initially trapped in the ice?"

"I know that you were an explorer for the Cybertron Scientific Academy."

"Yes. The Academy funded expeditions to the far reaches of the galaxy in search of new worlds and extraterrestrial life. I was part of one of those expeditions at the time that I was ensnared by an ice storm on earth that locked up my gyrostabilizers and caused me to crash deep into an ice cavern."

Blue nodded, waiting for Skyfire to continue.

"Like the other funded explorers, I didn't embark on that expedition alone. My colleague, and best friend, Starscream accompanied me."

At that, the silver mech gave Skyfire a questioning look. "Starscream? You don't mean…"

"Yes, the very same Starscream you know, in a way."

"But… best friend? How?"

"The Starscream I knew was a casualty of war. He was ambitious, but not obsessed with obtaining power at the expense of others. The Starscream I knew was an ingenious mech with a thirst for knowledge and a dry sense of humor--one who was not particularly intune with the emotions of others nor very socially skilled. But he was not evil. There was the inkling of what he might become, looking back, but I can't help but feel that if I hadn't allowed myself to be lost to the ice, he might not have turned into the crazed Decepticon Air Commander he is now."

"I doubt you crashed into the ice on purpose."

"It still happened, and I failed to stop it." Skyfire had the air of acceptance of this fact, but just under the surface, one might be able to tell that he was still tormented.

Bluestreak wasn't sure he was hearing him right. _Starscream_? "Forgive me if I say this, but I can't really see Starscream as being anything close to tolerable. I would have expected the betrayal thing."

"I'm the one who failed Starscream. I betrayed him, left him alone to scour the Earth looking for me. Left him alone to fly back to Cybertron on his last reserves of energy, because I held the majority of our supplies when I crashed. If I hadn't been so careless in my pursuit of data, I might have thought twice about putting myself in jeopardy like that. And now, I have to live with the fact that the mech I loved with all my spark is dead; killed by the combined efforts of myself and the Decepticon Air Comander."

"But how can you seriously blame yourself? You weren't even…" Bluestreak's next words died in his vocalizer as confusion and realization lit his features. "You…you loved him?" The gunner's jaw was slack with bewilderment as he desperately tried to conceive how any sentient creature could ever harbor feelings for the silver jet.

"Yes," was the short reply.

"Oh."

"I don't expect you to understand. You never knew him as I did."

"It's alright, I just… I just never would have guessed." Skyfire's story had a sobering affect. Bluestreak leaned back, winglets relaxing. "This war really does affect everyone. This horrible, pointless war could be ended if only the Decepticons would see reason. I hate it. I hate what it does, and has done to people. I hate that it tears people apart at best and _kills everyone_ you've ever been close to at worst." His vocalizer crackled with static. "You could be a _survivor_. No one really understands that the hardest thing is being a survivor. The dead aren't plagued by nightmares. The dead don't fear becoming too close to others only to lose them, like everyone else. You have to carry on--you have to continue to fight in this war because you're the survivor. And as long as the war continues, you can't let yourself get too close, because you can't deal with the possibility of losing everyone you love again. The status can change at any moment. I can't deal with it." Blue huddled in on himself, trembling now. "I cant… Primus, I can't deal with being alone again. _I hate it_."

Concern clearly written on his face, Skyfire stood to cross the short distance between them and leaned to lay a comforting hand on a shaking shoulder. "Bluestreak…"

"No… no, no, I can't." More static broke through.

"We're powerless to stop our ability to care. You can't just turn off your feelings out of fear." The shuttle knelt beside the gunner, to bring their heights more even. He was at a loss of how to comfort him, but it pained him to see the normally jovial mech so miserable.

"I don't _want_ to not care. But I can't deal with it." Near hysterical, the silver mech's cooling fans geared up. "I hate this. _I hate this_. I hate this fear, I hate being so weak… I can't. I can't, I _can't_."

The door to the lab cycled open, and Perceptor appeared at the threshold. Bluestreak sat straight, then stood hastily with a clearing breath through his vents. He forced a shaky smile at the red mech, but he seemed preoccupied already with whatever gadget he had retrieved and missed it.

The Air Guardian brought himself to his feet, not yet breaking contact with the gunner's shoulder. Gently, Bluestreak brushed Skyfire's hand from him and took a hasty step back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to waste so much of your time." Bluestreak's voice was quiet, almost strained. "I'm sorry, I need to go."

Before Skyfire knew it, Bluestreak was already out the door.


End file.
